


Active Listening

by ThirthFloor



Series: Drabbles from the Fates List [1]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Charon is Just Chilling, Charon the Boatman, Fluff, Getting Together, Gifts, Hades Drabbles, Hell, Hermes Talks a Lot, Hermes is the goodest boy, Hermes the Messenger, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Nectar (Hades Video Game), Nervous Hermes (Hades Video Game), Professional Business Associates, Stygian Boyfriends, The Underworld, They are so cute, kindof, the river styx - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:35:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirthFloor/pseuds/ThirthFloor
Summary: Hermes contemplates the growth of companionship between himself and his Professional Business Associate.
Relationships: Charon/Hermes (Hades Video Game)
Series: Drabbles from the Fates List [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077338
Comments: 10
Kudos: 130





	Active Listening

Hermes did not know at which point he started being able to understand Charon. Or rather, when something had shifted significantly enough for his own mind to slow down adequately for the boatman to worm his way inside, for that somehow soothing voice contrary to the audible sound it had to sound in the Olympian god’s mind and respond to his own ramblings. It certainly had taken a long time, for the messenger additionally could not recall hearing the low drawls of Charon’s scraping voice for the first while of their association.

A shift in character, perhaps it had taken, or something much more interpersonal, between the two of them rather than Hermes’ attention alone.

At the start of it all, quick trips down to the Underworld often left Hermes more wound up than usual, a strange unease always settling over him when things got darker and more claustrophobic. Sometimes the upper regions were quite alright, nice even, but despite the expanse of Elysium and all its chill air, there was a sense of unwelcome that made Hermes’ pulse antsy. A pressure, like the feeling of watchful eyes on his back – even if it were just innocent shades, Hermes felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up practically the entire trip down. So, he’d search for the boatman, quite literally dashing in to dump his wares and the soul identifications on the polished albeit ancient boat, prattle off on their uses and what messages to be delivered, and be on his way.

Charon would always watch him as well, burning violet gaze just visible under the brim of his wide boater hat, and Hermes would use an old salesmanship trick – staring right at the bridge of the nose, well, should the individual possess one, which Charon did not – to finish his delivery in record time. Charon would nod, weight leaning heavily on the oar, and that same searing gaze would bore into the back of the Olympian as he darted off to leave this wretched place behind.

Those hollow eyes, teeming with a deep energy, were always on him, and initially they had carried that same feeling of watchful unease that Hermes shivered off once finding his way back home.

Then, it came that Charon would begin meeting Hermes closer and closer to the surface; how the boatman came to expect his arrival was unbeknownst to the messenger god, but he appreciated the gesture all the same. It was as if Charon could tell how jumpy Hermes got, the way he couldn’t even hover still and the slight tremor to his rapid speech. The boatman awaited his arrival closer to the surface, and in his company, Hermes found himself speaking more, the tiniest bit more slowly, and biding their time. The more at ease he became, the easier it was to fall to his dispositional pattern of chatter.

Hermes filled most silences. In Olympus he was well known for it, rather rudely to be perfectly square, and especially now when the only companion in this dreary place seemed to have no words of his own. Figuring he was mute, with little to no intention to speak, Hermes had no issue prattling on about anything and everything.

Eventually, Hermes felt sorry, too, for being so fleeting in the past; and now, he allowed the realization of a sort of warm safety from being in the presence of the Chthonic minor god, aware that nothing dare cross the planks of his Narrowboat lest they be lost shades with little will stored in their spirits. Nothing could truly come to harm Hermes down here, and so, relaxation came to follow with the pleasure of Charon’s company.

Of course, though, as time went on, he wondered if the boatman even understood a word he spoke while they were together.

He received nods, and Charon followed directions, but that seemed to be the extent of it all. He never uttered even a sound in return, and while Hermes was often the one to interrupt things, a strange thought occurred that he himself wished to be interrupted, if only for once. Prompting place for it, asking questions, and waiting a beat for a response all seemed futile. Plus, Hermes himself often answered the question allowed, or rushed off to speak before he could stop himself.

And so, it came to pass in such a shock when one day, Charon spoke.

Hermes adjusted the strap of his bag, keeping what wares inside from tumbling out, and skidded to a halt at the ledge in Elysium where Charon often arrived to pick him up and spare him from a solitary trek down through Asphodel or Tartarus.

To the god’s surprise, the boat was already there at a standstill, its proprietor waiting to the side calmly, dark aura instead the most welcoming feature of the Underworld as far as Hermes was concerned. One of Charon’s arms crossed his chest, slender hand hidden within the folds of billowing robes, and that same penetrating violet gaze fixated as if he knew precisely where the god would appear.

Hermes opened his mouth to speak, a grin tugging at his lips, already sucking in a breath for the tumultuous expulsion of words sure to come: stories of where he’d been and the functions of the goods he had to deliver to his dear associate. But the words fell flat when Charon instead drew his hand out into view, a palm-sized bottle of golden nectar held delicately in his grasp.

“Charon, chap, is this…? Erm, well, of course I know what it is, but are you gifting this to me?”

And for the first time, Charon spoke. He had a voice like no other; and while to many that would be derogatory, speaking volumes of negativity towards the scratching, garbled whispers like a foul blizzard wind or the gargling of shards of something broken – to Hermes, it sounded simply, cozy and clear in his mind. It sounded as much the comfort and safety he felt in the boatman’s presence, and that was… Striking.

_“Indeed, something simple, but a gift for you, nonetheless. Should you desire to take it.”_

Hermes’ mind felt fuzzy, something blooming from his chest, warm and light like the comings-on of the wines from Dionysus’ feasts, but this was delightful. A new, exciting thrill shot through the messenger and caused his feathered heels to lift an additional foot or so off the ground where he hovered. He stared, at a loss for words, at the nectar in Charon’s hand.

“How can I hear you so clearly?” He instead asked, words dumping out slowly, at least for the pace of the quick-tongued god.

_“You at long last cared to listen. Perhaps you are comfortable… in my presence. Take it, I insist, good Hermes.”_

Without further hesitation, Hermes reached for the nectar and held the delicate glass close, admiring the subtle craftsmanship forged likely from fires here in hell itself. “I… thank you. I – oh, I didn’t exactly bring anything special for you, nothing aside from the usual wares and the few soul identifications but – oh, next time, next time I will, alright Charon? We are business partners for sure, there’s no doubt about that now, alright? Considering you’ve put up with me for this long, and you’ve followed everything I’ve said! Why, you’ve understood it all, haven’t you? I am terribly sorry for doubting so, I suppose I should have – I should have listened closer last time…”

 _"You are forgiven, for neither of us were ready. Now, shall we depart?”_ Charon gestured to the boat that awaited them.

A jolt of glee shot through Hermes, and for the first time since his work began, an excitement to venture into the Underworld met him. It was startling, surely, for when the fear had dissipated as companionship with Charon grew, for once… Well, this would be rather enjoyable.

“Certainly! Let’s get right to it, friend! And do I have stories to tell you, now there was this incident that I faced up on the surface when acquiring the name of that fellow right there…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Leave a comment if you enjoyed - I respond to each and every one!!
> 
> This is the first work in a series of drabbles/short fics I am writing, mostly to get myself familiar with writing these characters so I can write more for this fandom!!! All of these works will additionally be posted on my Hades sideblog on Tumblr @ziggyzagreus !! I mostly just scream about the game and reblog good fan art there, lol. Feel free to stop by and say hello!
> 
> Follow me on other social medias! Twitter @thirthfloor ; Tumblr @aegir-emblem!


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